


Confidence Man

by edy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Established Relationship, Hot Tub Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pool Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler has somehow misplaced his swimming trunks and found a replacement in the form of a green rhinoceros inner tube. It's stupid, stamped with "JUNGLE BUDDIES" on the side. Big blue eyes stare at Josh.</p><p>"No way you just blew that up."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confidence Man

**Author's Note:**

> translation into русский available: [Confidence Man](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5817249) by [RunTheConverse](https://ficbook.net/authors/288286)
> 
> -
> 
> inspiration: [this picture](http://i.imgur.com/ty7epyF.jpg) (i have too many questions and not enough answers)

Tyler has him flat on his back. Breathing ragged and chests rising and falling, Tyler straddles his hips, both hands on either side of his head. The mattress creaks, cheap wood shifting as the headboard knocks into the wall. "Like that?" Tyler asks, as he smiles. His cheeks are pink. "Josh?"

"Yeah, like that," Josh says. "But with less grunting and, you know, whining."

Tyler sticks out his tongue.

"You don't even have my arms pinned down."

Tyler blows a raspberry.

"Weak," Josh says, and hooks the crooks of his elbows under Tyler's armpits. Hips jutting into Tyler's backside, Tyler grunts again, eyes shutting, letting Josh roll them toward the foot of the bed. "You're not even putting up a fight." Josh is on top of Tyler now, Tyler's leg around his waist, the other hanging from the bed, curled toes skimming clean carpet. "You're not that determined, are you?"

He listens to Tyler hum. Eyes still shut, Tyler tosses an arm above his head. "Didn't pin me down."

"What are you going to do about it?" Josh teases.

But Tyler only hums again.

"Tyler, this was your idea."

"Yes."

Josh narrows his eyes. "I don't trus—"

Tyler has him flat on his back, thighs squeezing his torso, shoving down wrists and hands with warm palms. The bed moves, the headboard knocking, knocking.

It's hard to breathe. With Tyler's thighs around his chest, it hurts even more. Josh says, "I can see up your shirt," because his dying breath should be reserved for something like this, for telling Tyler his shirt is baggy and his skin is dark and lovely and needs to be bitten.

Tyler is predictable. He releases Josh's hands and yanks his shirt over his head. Josh leans forward at the same moment Tyler does, his teeth meeting skin. Tyler is too far up, sitting on Josh's chest. His stomach is level with Josh's mouth, though, and that's good. That's brilliant. Josh holds Tyler's hips, kissing the concave, the bottoms of ribs. Tyler is humming some more, but his lips part, and soon he's moaning, gasping, and goosebumps line his arms and thighs.

"Stop," he says, and rolls over, flat on his back, next to Josh, chest rising and falling and breathing ragged.

Josh listens to them breathe, to the hustle and bustle outside their hotel room. Carts tumble down the hall, old wheels getting caught in the carpet. People whisper and shut doors, their locks turning to remain locked for the rest of the night. Televisions flick on and echo across thin walls. Josh hears the local news station, some cartoons, and porn.

No, that's Tyler.

Josh turns his head from their dingy room, two beds, soft bathroom towels, and overused do-not-disturb sign to find Tyler already advancing on him. Tyler's hand connects with the side of his neck, and their foreheads bump with a gentle thud. Lips parted, chapped lips, red lips, Tyler says, "Yeah."

And Josh smiles and says it, too. "Yeah." It releases in a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut at the meeting of their mouths. Hot, wet, Tyler is gasping like the porn stars Josh can hear from the room over. Which would be more embarrassing in the morning? he wonders—watching some hotel-grade, softcore porn, or the only members of a two-man band getting it on? Well, it depends on whether they get caught, doesn't it?

Tyler is impatient. He immediately grabs for Josh's cock when they break this kiss and go for another at a different angle. Each of them is wearing basketball shorts that neither of them actually knows who they belong to originally. When they checked into the hotel, hovering behind crew and friends, Tyler pointed at Josh's shorts and said, "That's mine," and Josh laughed because they _were_ probably Tyler's.

Now, though, Josh can feel the familiar stretch of the waistband, and Tyler climbs on top of him, and Josh knows these shorts are his, like how the pair Tyler has on is his, too; they're tied in a bad excuse for a knot that's quickly coming undone once Josh's fingers remember who's the one in control here.

And now, though, Josh gets a wicked realization Tyler was talking about Josh's cock while they waited to be checked in. "That's mine," he said, and Tyler is cupping Josh's front, squeezing lightly, his red, red lips curling up into a smile.

And Josh loves it.

But Tyler is impatient.

"Hey," Josh says, Tyler's teeth sliding down to nip at his bottom lip. "Still got my shirt on, and you're trying to reveal the main act."

"Oh, my God," Tyler sighs, and rolls his eyes.

Josh laughs. He pushes himself into sitting, Tyler sliding down into his lap. They remove Josh's shirt together, Josh grabbing the collar and Tyler pulling it up. Pale skin is revealed, and Tyler touches it. He touches it all with tongue and hands, dipping into collarbones and tracing pulse points with gentle fingertips. "Taste so good," Tyler mumbles, lips against the hollow of Josh's ear.

"Yeah?"

Tyler has him flat on his back again. His hips are Tyler's seat, which Tyler steadily grinds into, slow, heated. "Yeah," Tyler says, sticking out his tongue. He doesn't blow a raspberry this time. This time Tyler flattens it to Josh's nipple—the right one first, and then to the left. Swirling, lips pressing together to suck, Tyler begins to hum. It tickles more than anything. Josh begins to squirm, twisting and turning to get Tyler to stop. Tyler begins to giggle, high-pitched little noises that arouse more than simple glee in Josh. "Yeah," Tyler whispers, and lowers himself. He kisses Josh's stomach, a hip, and dips his fingers into Josh's shorts to let dark hair show. " _Yeah_." And that's more for himself than Josh. Tyler's staring at the hair collected beneath Josh's navel, ducking his head to kiss at it, to slowly lick. Tyler goes even lower, both hands now grabbing at the shorts to tug them down, down, down, and off Josh's legs.

Tyler sits there, between Josh's raised knees and spread legs. He's quiet. Josh is quiet, too. The mattress groans as Josh props himself onto his elbows. Down the hall, someone leaves the privacy of their rented room to grab something from a vending machine.

"Yeah?" Josh quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Tyler licks his palm, spit on his lips, and wraps his hand around Josh's cock. Up and down, a slow twist when it comes to the tip, Tyler watches Josh with a careful eye and a set of parted lips. "Yeah," he whispers, and nods, and Josh is flat on his back and nodding with Tyler and chanting, "Yeah."

Tyler lets go of Josh's cock. He kisses Josh, hovering above him as he does so, allowing Josh the freedom to hug Tyler around the middle. They're chest to chest in mere seconds. Josh runs his hands down Tyler's spine, slipping them into his basketball shorts and holding his ass. "Closer," Josh says, Tyler's mouth on his cheek. Tyler tries to get closer. Sadly, clothes are a barrier. Josh squeezes Tyler's ass, his nails in Tyler's skin, scratching skin, pulling skin. "Want these off you."

Tyler may be impatient, but he's also a massive jerk. He touches Josh's chest and shoves, hopping off the bed with the beginnings of beard burn on his lips, red lips, wet lips. "Let's go for a swim," Tyler says. "Think the pool's open 'til midnight."

Josh can't believe his ears. "What time is it?" He watches Tyler move about their room, watches Tyler replace his shorts with a pair of swimming trunks, and watches the tiny nail prints on Tyler's ass disappear from view. Josh wants nothing more than to bend Tyler over the bed and press more marks into his backside.

"It's twelve thirty," Tyler says, his phone lit in his hand. "Come on, Josh." He tosses Josh's swimming trunks over his shoulder as he prepares a bag to take to the pool with them. Phones drop in, portable chargers following right after. Their key cards slide into a side pocket.

"How do you live with yourself, Tyler?" Josh asks, grabbing his trunks and giving his erection a sad look.

"I'm sure we won't get caught." Tyler slings the bag over his shoulder. "I'm sure they won't care. Do you need help getting dressed?"

" _No_ , no." Josh gets up from the bed. "Don't touch me." He can honestly say he's never had to sate a boner in swimming trunks.

Despite the late hour, they aren't stopped on their way down to the pool. Children scurry down the halls, and in the elevator, two teenagers occupy the space with Tyler and Josh. Fluffy towels are wrapped around their shoulders and a puddle of water is forming at their feet. They had just been at the pool, are now heading back to their room. They don't recognize Tyler or Josh.

"Anybody else down there?" Tyler asks, and it's timid, anxious. Josh feels small next to him.

"No," they say, shaking their heads and getting water on the elevator walls. "We were the last ones."

Tyler and Josh are the last ones now. They pad barefoot to the pool's edge, mindful of the slick tile. Josh pokes at the pre-provided towels while Tyler ponders if he can dive into the water.

"Don't," Josh warns.

Tyler laughs.

Josh sets towels beside their bag, fighting the impulse to send Tyler into the water with a shoulder and a smile. "You first," he says, because the water might be cold.

"No," Tyler says, "you first," because the water might be cold.

"You first," Josh says, and Tyler shakes his head and says, "No, you first," and Josh snakes his arm around Tyler's chest and jumps into the pool. Tyler's legs are anchors on Josh's hips as Tyler clings for dear life.

They hit the water with a flop that sends them under for three seconds. Josh emerges coughing, and Tyler surfaces in a sputtering fit. It evolves into laughter, and it reverberates through the room. Tyler kisses Josh's cheek, anything to feel Josh's beard against his lips. Josh splashes him. Soon they separate, Josh going toward the edge and Tyler checking out the inflatables left behind.

It would have made more sense for there to be two pools—a precaution for the kids who want to swim and their parents who worry. They're pushed to the same pool, though, no shallow end, no deep end, just a consistent flow of water. Josh's toes get caught on toys with nets, toys heavy with water, abandoned or forgotten. The staff must know their guests sneak out at night for a dip. That's why they don't clean up until morning. That's why Josh can hear Tyler struggle to sit on a raft. "Think it's got a hole in it," Tyler says, as Josh fiddles with the zipper of the bag. "Josh, I'm sinking."

Josh looks at Tyler, a bored expression already in place, but he's laughing. Tyler slowly sinking back into the water is very comical, especially when it's paired with crossed arms and a pout. "Just get off it, Ty. You've got legs."

Tyler does, and he's on Josh within seconds, drawing him away from the bag. "Nuh-uh. Not checking Twitter. Not checking Instagram." He jumps onto Josh, his weight nothing in the water. "Not checking Snapchat."

"Why'd you bring our phones then?" Josh grabs Tyler's ass again. It's better like this, he thinks. The water is lukewarm, could be warmer, and Tyler has the smallest chill bumps along his arms. His nipples are hard, and Josh wants to suck on them until Tyler is begging for him to suck on something else. "Just to check the time? There's a clock… somewhere."

They take a minute to turn their heads and find a clock. Tyler digs his index finger into Josh's chest. "No clock. I'm smart."

"I'm horny," Josh says, blunt, grinning and making Tyler grin with him. "Does it feel different underwater?"

"Lemme check!" Tyler ducks a hand down and _squeezes_. "Oh, yeah."

"Please tell me you brought me down here for _that_ and not just because of some… some… shenanigans."

"Definitely shenanigans." Tyler removes himself from Josh's waist, taking a quick glance around the area. The silence should be unnerving, but it's pleasant. Chlorine coats the inside of Josh's nostrils. It's all he can smell. He buries his nose into the crook of Tyler's neck and breathes in. There it is. Josh holds the small of Tyler's back. There it is.

"Hey, Josh," Tyler whispers. "I want to try something."

"Okay."

"Do you trust me?"

"Well, I don't now."

Josh smiles. Tyler smiles.

Tyler ducks under the water.

"Tyler…?"

It's different. Tyler has teased him before, licked his cock over his clothes until he cried from wanting more contact. But this is different. For one, Tyler is underwater. And second… Tyler is _underwater_.

"Tyler!" Josh pushes himself back, almost stepping on a water pistol.

Tyler floats up, eyes narrowed, his nose the dividing line between him and the water. He raises an eyebrow.

"Not here," Josh says. "I mean, not under here… or whatever. Maybe you can blow me on a raft." However the raft is currently residing at the bottom of the pool, Tyler having popped it. "Okay."

Tyler stands, the water coming up to his stomach. "Josh, trust me."

"I dunno, man. What if you drown? What am I gonna tell the fans?"

"The truth."

"Uh, no."

Tyler's fingers dance along Josh's sides. They're delicate things full with purpose. The tips are hard with calluses and more purpose. Josh shuts his eyes. "I'll be careful," Tyler says. "Pinky promise."

Their pinkies find each other, even with Josh's eyes closed.

Josh's trunks go down to his thighs before Tyler goes underwater. Easier that way, as easy as blowjobs can go while in a pool. Josh is apprehensive throughout this, and he expects it to go away once Tyler gets his cock in his mouth, but it goes higher when Tyler does this. Josh chews on his lip and covers his face with his hands and actually feels his erection flag. Tyler comes back up silently, like a ghost, his hands cold on Josh's wrists. "Hey," Tyler says.

"Sorry."

"S'all good. Let's just swim."

Josh drops his hands. Tyler fixes Josh's trunks, patting his chest. "Got a better idea," Josh says. Tyler runs his thumb over Josh's nipple. "Let's get in the hot tub."

There's no protest. Tyler is climbing out and taking their bag and towels and dragging them over to the hot tubs. Josh follows, almost slips, and doesn't slow down. "How d'ya turn it on?" Tyler asks. The tub's an in-ground thing, one that can hold a small group of friends or two horny boys.

Josh points at the sign above Tyler's head. "It says 'press white buttons to turn tub on'."

Tyler freezes. He finds them. "Got it."

"Shit, Ty." Josh points again, at number one on the sign. "We didn't 'take a soap shower before entering'."

Tyler turns to read, breaking out into giggles. "'No washing in tub'. Who would?"

"'Do not use the tub if you are menstruating'. Who would?"

Tyler taps his chin. "'Turn tub off when finished'. Obviously. Wait, what does number three say?"

"'Ten minutes is a safe limit'."

Josh and Tyler meet eyes.

"We'll be done in ten minutes, right?" Josh glances at their bag. "Should we set an alarm?"

"Yeah, you do that. While this… warms up."

Josh snorts and sits down on the tub's edge, allowing a leg to stray into the water. It grows warm. Josh pulls the bag over and tugs on the zipper. Honestly, Josh doesn't know why Tyler packed a bag. They could have carried their phones down with them and set them well away from the pool to avoid getting drenched. Josh goes to his alarms, flicking in the time and waiting until Tyler returns so they can start the countdown. Ten minutes is nothing when it comes to them. Josh thinks he could get off in five, maybe sooner if Tyler presses between his legs and rubs against him in—

Josh sees the lube.

He blinks.

That's why Tyler insisted on bringing a bag. The phones and the chargers were a ruse. Everybody would look at them weird if they saw Tyler holding lubricant on his way to the pool.

Josh blinks again.

Does he get angry? Is he upset?

No, he's currently getting lightheaded from all the blood in his body rushing to his cock.

"Ty, you could've told me you wanted to—" Josh looks over his shoulder and promptly loses his composure. "What the hell are you doing?"

Tyler has somehow misplaced his swimming trunks and found a replacement in the form of a green rhinoceros inner tube. It's stupid, stamped with "JUNGLE BUDDIES" on the side. Big blue eyes stare at Josh.

"No way you just blew that up."

Tyler's hands go to his hips in a triumphant pose. "Nah, some kid left it in the pool."

"Of course."

"Tub's ready?"

"Tyler, I can't do this when you're wearing that."

Tyler struts toward the tub, the inner tube doing a magnificent job at concealing everything of importance. "Don't worry 'bout it." He carefully places a foot in the tub, then climbs in completely. The water only comes up to his thighs. "Pretty warm," he says, and tests it further by sitting down. He laughs, his arms around the rhino's neck, floating, rocking. "Feels weird not wearing any trunks."

"Never been skinny dipping before?" Josh turns on the alarm and sets his phone on the bag. He joins Tyler in the tub, sitting beside him, trying not to stare at the stupid inner tube and its stupid blue eyes. It even has eyelashes. What the hell.

"Who hasn't been skinny dipping?" Tyler mumbles, avoiding Josh's glare at the inner tube. He slaps at the water, too warm, too hot. They're teetering on the edge, anxious to begin. Josh's fingers are shaking. He needs to hide them under the water, but he's reaching over, taking hold of Tyler's cheek and kissing Tyler's mouth. Tyler opens up, the inflatable noisy as he twists to reciprocate the kiss. "Gotta get started," Tyler says, pecking Josh's lips after every word. "Ten minutes is a safe limit," he mocks, reminds.

"You brought lube."

Tyler nervously laughs. "Did I?"

"Not mad. Could have told me you wanted to fuck."

"Oh, where's the surprise in that?"

Josh flicks the rhino's horn. " _This_."

Tyler stands, beads of water dripping down his thighs. Josh wants to take that tube off him and pick so many holes into the plastic and suck his cock. Josh flicks the horn again. "Take it off."

"No."

"I told you I can't do this when you're wearing that."

"And I told you not to worry about it." Tyler wades through the water, his back to Josh, and pulls out the lubricant. "Wasting time. We're gonna be in the danger zone. Not a safe limit." Josh watches Tyler take a towel from their pile next, stretching it out on the tile floor by the tub. It's preparation, either for a stomach or a back. Josh doesn't know just yet. His cock doesn't care. As long as it's allowed a release, then Josh could care less about what position they end up in. Tyler had been practicing being dominant with Josh in their room, jumping onto the bed and daring Josh to wrestle him. "I can take you down, Josh," he said, and he didn't. He couldn't, can't. Tyler is weak. Josh told him he was weak, and now Tyler is standing in a hot tub, a rhinoceros inner tube around his naked waist, his lips red from beard burn and his stomach red from the warm water. "Josh," he says, "I think I want to fuck you." His eyes won't leave Josh's lips, and those rhino's eyes won't leave Josh's _entire being_.

"You want to fuck me?" Josh asks, and he stands, too, standing in front of Tyler. He ignores the inner tube. "Think you're up to do that, baby?"

Tyler is weak. If he wasn't trying to appear strong, he would actually swoon. No, he is swooning. He catches himself, though, only losing his balance for a moment. In the next moment, he blushes and clears his throat. "I was up to it this morning."

Josh kisses him. Tyler is welcoming of it. He touches Josh's neck, drawing him close, closer, and that fucking inflatable squashes between them, and Josh hates it. "Please tell me you're gonna take it off when we do it."

Tyler hums. Josh decides he hates Tyler, too, eyes narrowing as he follows Tyler to the edge, taking the lube in hand again. "How many fingers?" Tyler asks, popping off the lid.

"Tyler, we were _just_ talking about you having me this morning. I don't need any fingers."

"Right-o." Tyler swipes his tongue over his lips. "Uh, drop your trunks."

They go to Josh's thighs, like they did in the pool. This time Josh is above water, and he's leaned on his elbows, his stomach flat on the towel Tyler unfolded for him. Tyler takes far too long getting ready. Josh begins regretting coming down here with him. "You gonna stop ogling my ass and put your dick in it?"

"You're so beautiful, Josh."

"Tyler, shut up."

Tyler's hands roam down Josh's sides, grabbing hips, pulling Josh backward, and pushing himself forward. His cock rocks between Josh's legs, stroking testicles and perineum. Josh groans. Tyler's so hard, hot, and he enters Josh easily after he applies the lubricant. "Yeah," Tyler sighs once he bottoms out, his chest to Josh's back, no barrier, the inflatable removed and discarded and God, does Josh love Tyler.

"Yeah," Josh returns, Tyler's hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades. Josh presses his cheek to his forearms, crossing them on top the towel, dry towel, fluffy towel, chlorine-smelling towel. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." Tyler runs his hand down Josh's back, then up, petting the notches of his spine. He finds his footing, toes curling, hips snapping forward.

Josh moans, high, embarrassing. He buries his face in his arms.

"Yeah," Tyler whispers, and places his hands on each side of Josh, on the towel, careful to not pull and knock Josh headfirst into tile. He pulls his hips back and thrusts them forward. "Like that?" They have matching pink ears. "Josh?"

"Yeah, like that," Josh says. "Exactly like that, baby. Fuck me like that. So good." Josh pushes himself onto his elbows, rotating his hips when Tyler presses in to rock. There might be chlorine in his nose and the sound of wet skin meeting wet skin in his ears, but Josh focuses on Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, and grunts and whines.

Tyler is copying Josh's sounds. Tiny gasps escape, hisses and breathless moans tumbling, too. It arches Josh's back, lifts his feet from the tub floor. "You're mine," Tyler says, sharp hipbones digging into Josh's ass. "Got it?" He's trying to be confident, but his voice is shaky. Josh wants to roll over and hug Tyler, kiss his forehead and tell him he deserves the world.

But Josh is getting fucked, each thrust of Tyler's hips rattling his brain. "Yeah, yeah," Josh says, because it's nonsensical and makes sense at the same time. "Yours, all yours."

Tyler's palm smacks against Josh's ass. It brings them both out their trance. Shaking their heads and laughing until they're gasping for air, this is normal sex with Tyler. This is a good a time as any for a phone to go off. Tyler continues moving his hips, fumbling around for a phone. "Has it been ten minutes?" he asks, finding the ringing phone in question. "Shit," he mumbles, cock stilling inside of Josh. "It's Mark."

"What does he want?" Josh's eyes widen. "Silence the call! Make him think we're asleep."

Tyler's thumbs are toes. "I accidentally rejected it."

"Tyler! How are we—no, wait, this is okay. You were half-asleep. You didn't know what you were doing."

"Okay." Tyler sticks his phone into the bag, tossing the lube back in with it. "We gotta go."

In tandem, Tyler pulls out, and Josh pulls up his trunks. He should have known this wouldn't be the last time his boner was accustomed to the inside of his swimming trunks.

Tyler is on his phone. Again. "He's texting me. Wants to know where we are."

"Ignore him." Josh wraps a towel around his waist. He takes hold of the bag and breaks into a sprint from the pool. Tyler follows, his bare feet loud. "Wait!" Josh says. "Rule number six, Ty!"

Tyler runs back. "'Turn off tub when finished'," he recites. He's behind Josh after no time at all. "Oh, this is bad. Why did I let you bring me down here?"

"Tyler, this was your idea!"

"Why didn't you tell me no?"

"Because I wanted your dick and you're the lead singer." Josh turns toward the stairs. Tyler understands straight away.

On the way onto their floor, Josh's phone goes off. It's their ten-minute alarm. "Dang it." Josh struggles to find his phone and shut off the alarm. From the corner of his eye, Tyler works on getting out the key to their room, and from the corner of his eye, Josh spots the stupid-as-hell green rhinoceros inner tube around Tyler's stupid-as-hell red stomach. "Tyler, I hate you," he whispers, because they're by their room and wanting to attract the least amount of attention as possible.

"Aw, you're so sweet, Joshie."

They're inside their room, breathing, hands over eyes. Josh is pink. Tyler is red. The inner tube is deflating, a hole somewhere or the plug undone. It's limply held up by Tyler's erection. Josh bites into his cheek to keep from laughing. "Tyler."

Tyler looks down. "Shoot, I really wanted to keep this thing." He points at the towel around Josh's waist. "Gimme that."

Josh does. Tyler pats himself dry. He wiggles his hips, the tube crumbling to the floor in disappointment. Josh removes his swimming trunks, though they land with dignity and not with a smile and big blue eyes.

He drops the bag by their bed, dumping out the contents on the carpet. Josh takes out the lube, pops off the lid.

"What're you doing?"

"We gotta finish," Josh says, and coats his fingers with the lube. He drops his hand between his legs and rubs his fingertips over his stretched hole.

Tyler watches him, the towel covering his mouth. His cock twitches—actually twitches.

Josh falls onto his back. "You gonna…?" He drifts, voice getting caught in his throat. Tyler is on him, kissing him, pinching a nipple. Tyler wastes no time. He's inside Josh, taking Josh's arms and holding his wrists, right above his head, pinning, pinning, and Josh shuts his eyes and groans.

"Like that?" Tyler asks, smiling, licking Josh's jaw line. "Josh?"

"Yeah," Josh says. " _Fuck_ , yeah, like that."

The bed knocks against the wall, the mattress creaks, and Josh's muscles beg for him to move and regain control, but Tyler is doing so well. He's confident, his cock full and finding Josh's prostate with each thrust, and Josh can't move. He can't. Tyler is amazing. Tyler is happy. Tyler is kissing him, deep and open, his tongue stroking Josh's tongue and teeth. "Like that?" Tyler asks, still unsure, still insecure, and Josh nods and burrows his nose in Tyler's neck and says, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Slowly, Tyler lets go of Josh's wrists, dropping his hand between their slick bodies, Tyler's with sweat and Josh's with pool water. Tyler finds Josh's cock, each finger a blessing as they squeeze and pump and jerk. "You're so good for me, Joshie," Tyler says, his lips resting on Josh's chin. "Can't believe you let me do this to you."

"Love you," Josh replies, his heels bouncing against Tyler's hips. "I love you so much."

A fucking soppy mess, Tyler comes from that. He's a tomato. Josh hugs Tyler, his orgasm hitting him when Tyler twists his wrist and thumbs the head of his cock. Josh grunts, a loud "ugh". It's graceless, but Tyler kisses him all over—his face, ears, mouth, neck, and lower to his chest, to his stomach, to his hips. Josh thinks Tyler would have gone even lower if he hadn't told him to stop. They laugh it off, Tyler picking the towel from the floor to wipe them both clean. "Let's go in the other bed," Tyler says. "It's dry over there."

Josh holds onto Tyler, his nose in Tyler's hair, his hand on Tyler's chest, and his thumb rubbing Tyler's nipple. "You were good," Josh says. "That wasn't just sex talk."

"Getting better." Tyler scratches his nose. "Practice makes perfect."

In the morning, Tyler pins Josh before he's fully awake. "Not fair," Josh slurs, eyes shut, voice hoarse.

Tyler sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry. He turns and rolls from the bed at the ring of his phone.

Lazy, Josh shifts to lie on his side. "You're mine, too, you know that? Might not discuss it as _openly_ as you, but you're mine." Josh doesn't need to point at Tyler's cock to make that known either. He'd just need to do something as simple as smile at Tyler to let Tyler know the depths of their relationship. They can read each other like that.

Like now. Tyler's leaned back, his head level with the mattress, phone tight in his grasp, his eyes closed, and a look of utter amusement on his face. Josh cards his fingers through Tyler's hair, already beginning to laugh. "What is it?"

Tyler tries to be calm, but he's laughing, holding his stomach and laughing and laughing, his face turning pink. "I left my swimming trunks down at the pool."


End file.
